The World meets the Heroes!
by AwkwardNerdyGirl
Summary: Of course, the demigods can't just stay on their respective camps for their whole lives. They have to go out and live their lives, and it is inevitable that they befriend and meet mortals. (Many stories will be mortal-centric, though there will be some about demigods. And this will be a collection of one-shots)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi guys! This will be my first story here in so please be kind to me. Please review! I accept anything, suggestions, recommendations, criticisms.**

"Nikki!"

I turned to see Lizzie, Harry, and Jake smiling at me. "Guys! G'morning!"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "We've been calling you for like, ten times already. What the hell are you spacing out for?"

Sam jumped up and down excitedly, "Oh, I know! You're thinking about how you're gonna make some dumb, or subtle move on your crush, right?"

I sighed. "No, Sam. Today, I will go for straight and direct."

"Whoa!" "No way!" "Really?" "Oh, finally!" are their responses.

Let me explain. My crush is the only one missing in the current group of people in front of me, Percy Jackson. He is... let's say, not so bright when it comes to girls. I've been making a move on him every damn day for a year already. Well, my moves were the opposite of the moves of a slut, which consists of pouting their red lips, swaying hips, showing off their boobs (no matter what size they are). My moves are a little brush of hands here, gentle slaps there, joking about liking him (sooo not a joke). And he just shrugs/laughs/rejects them all off. It's kind of insulting that he didn't even realize my feelings for him. So I decided to do it straight and direct today.

I will ask him out.

"Asking someone out on the last day of the school year can be sooo cool and uncool at the same time." Jake said, grinning.

"Why's that?"

"Well, if you'll get together, that means you've liked each other for quite a long time. If not, no other boys to turn to. School's over. Bye bye boys." Jake made an imitation of a girl's voice for his last sentence.

I smirked, "What, you think boys can only be found at school? The world is wide, buddy!"

Jake rolled his eyes, "So wide you can easily overlook past a few boys."

I crossed my arms. "There are just some boys that are okay to overlook and there are boys who should not be overlooked. If every boy is so dazzling they should not be overlooked, then I must observe every guy I come across to."

"Whatever, Nikki." And we all laughed, knowing that I won the argument.

Suddenly, Percy arrived, looking handsome as ever. His wind-swept hair, his tanned muscles, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They are the most perfect shade of green.

"Hi, Percy!" We all greeted him.

"Hey!" He was grinning widely.

Harry and Jake gave him a high-five. Noticing his good mood, the latter asked him, "So, why do you look so happy this early in the morning?"

"You remember my girlfriend Annabeth? The one you are all convinced wasn't real?"

We nodded and said "Yeah." "Uh-huh." "So what?" (If you're wondering, the one who said 'So what?' was me. *wink*)

He grinned wider, showing all his teeth. (It may sound creepy, but it looked dazzling on his face.) "She's coming to get me after school!" He said excitedly.

"Oooooh!" Sam squealed. "I can't wait to meet her!" I shot her a glare, just a quick one, so Percy wouldn't notice. Apparently, she didn't notice it either.

"Really? You sure you didn't hire someone to act as your girlfriend, just to make us believe she's real?" Harry teased.

"She's real and she'll make you believe she's my girlfriend. I know it doesn't sound convincing from me, but if she talks, man, there's no room for argument." Percy said, his chest swelling with pride, as usual when he talks about Annabeth.

The bell rang and we separated ways, going to different rooms. The guys whispered to me "Good luck confessing, Nik." And I scowled at them.

The girls and I have the same first period. I know, I know. The last day and there's still class? Yeah, but it's mostly the teachers giving reminders, goodbye speeches, etc, etc.

"So, are you still planning on asking him out?" Sam asked me.

"Nikki, his girlfriend might be real." Lizzie told me, her tone serious.

I groaned. "Liz, don't think such negative things."

Her eyebrow shot up. "It's a possibility."

"That's exactly why you shouldn't think about it!"

"So, you're going to go through your plan?"

I nodded. "Yup."

"What if he rejects you? You know, friendzoned?" Sam asked innocently.

I glared at her. "Are you really my bestfriend? 'Cause as far as I know, bestfriends are supposed to support each other."

"Oh, we support you, whether you get rejected or not." Lizzie grinned at me.

"She's correct!" Sam giggled.

I shook my head, but I can't help by grin as well. I don't know why the hell these two were my bestfriends.

Now, let me tell you that I have thought of those things. Percy always talked about his Wise Girl, as he calls Annabeth, whenever there's an opening. Though, his description of her was a bit too... perfect, I say. Well, the way I described him earlier, I suppose he sounds too perfect, though he really is. So it really won't surprise me if he does have a girlfriend, but it will make me reeeaaally sad. And friendzone? Of course, he could just look at me as his friend.

I shook my head. It's Lizzie's fault I'm thinking about this! It's so depressing that the one you like doesn't like you back, so just like I said earlier to her, don't think about the possibilities.

At lunch, we talk normally, like we do every day. Percy's so excited that his eyes lit up whenever we ask something about his grilfriend, whether we are teasing him or just curious. We tried matching his excitement. But Lizzie, Sam, Jake and Harry give me pitying glances every now and then. I ignored them.

And then, the bell rang, signaling that it is officially the end of the class and the start of the summer break.

I quickly got my things from my locker, and then went to the bathroom and checked my appearance, Lizzie and Sam lending me some of their cosmetics, since I'm so silly I forgot mine at home.

I decided to ask him out before his "Annabeth," real or fake, take him away. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to speak alone with him.

The six of us came out from the school, teasing one another, making jokes here and there, the boys creating a little drama scene that we won't see each other again, causing us girls to roll our eyes, and slap them lightly. And then a girl's voice rang clearly in the air.

"Hey you! Seaweed brain!"

We all stopped. Percy told us earlier that his girlfriend may call him Seaweed brain, which was what she nicknamed him.

Then the voice shouted again. "Kelp head! Percy Jackson!"

Percy turned and a smile broke in his handsome face. "Thalia!"

We all looked at the girl who tackle-hugged him. She was average height, her hair short and spiky, eyeliner in her eyes, wearing skull earrings. She's definitely punk, but a silver headdress, a circlet to be specific, and silver jacket, ruined her punk style.

"Who's this?" I demanded, "I thought your girlfriend's name was Annabeth and she's blonde!"

They broke they hug, the girl ruffling Percy's hair. I felt a twinge of annoyance. Percy doesn't let us ruffle his hair. He said it makes him feel like a child.

"I'm Thalia." She introduced herself, grinning wickedly at us. "Percy's cousin."

We exchanged hi's and hello's. Percy looked at her, "I haven't seen you in a year! Where have you been?"

"Oh, you know the usual. Dangerous places. Almost gone to the Underworld. The Hunters are currently in the area so we decided to stop by the camp. I went with Annabeth to fetch you from school." She grinned when Percy perked up at the name "Annabeth."

"Where is she?" he asked, his eyes already scanning the area.

"There." We all looked at where she pointed.

A girl with honey-blonde hair in a ponytail was walking casually towards us. She was wearing simple clothes, a knitted cream sweater, skinny denim pants and converse. A streak of black ran in my range of vision. Percy. He ran to her and lifted her up, twirling and smiling and laughing.

When he finally set her down, they shared a kiss (it broke my heart), which was interrupted by Thalia. "Alright, you two! That's enough!"

We walked to them. Up close, I can see that she's tanned evenly. And she's wearing the same kind of nacklace Percy always wears. I bit my lip, in annoyance with her and myself for putting a bit of makeup to make myself prettier and here she is, beautiful without any on her face.

"Hi!" Harry said in a friendly tone. "You must be Annabeth!"

"Yeah. Annabeth Chase. That's me. And I'm very real." She smiled in a friendly way and her gray (oh, how uncommon that eye color is!) eyes sparkled but they jumped from Mark to each one of us, sizing and calculating us up. It made me uncomfortable, and seeing how my friends seem to squirm under her gaze, we might all be feeling the same.

"We can see that you're real. And now, we know that Percy wasn't lying to us the whole year!" Sam joked. We laughed. And when I glumly added "Yeah," my friends gave me a couple of pity looks, which I was growing to hate.

Percy introduced us. "Annabeth, this is Harry," he gave her a thumbs up, "Jake," he gave her a grin and shook her hand, "Lizzie," they gave each other a close-lipped smile and shook hands, "Sam," she said "Hi!" and then hugged her which clearly suprised her, "And Nikki." I walked to her, gulping and hoping my voice won't crack. I hate that I'm the last one Percy introduced, it just means I have to talk at least a sentence.

"Hi!" I hoped I sounded cheerful, "We've heard so many things about you."

She raised her eyebrows but she smiled, her eyes eyeing me suspiciously. (oh, the word.) "Really? And may I ask what Seaweed brain here," she gave him a playful look (Oh, I hate that look.) and then turned back to me, "told you about me?"

I swallowed all my rising feelings, "Umm... He said you're beautiful, brave, and you have fast reflexes... you can match him in sports, except swimming he says, you're a bookworm, you're a dyslexic and ADHD like him, you go to summer camp with him, you know each other since you were kids, 13 or 14, I forgot, you're fluent in Greek, you rarely lose in an argument, You give really scary glares, and he says you're smart." By the time I was finished,I was blinking tears out of my eyes and trying hard not to sound bitter. Percy talked about these things over and over again.

A small wrinkle appeared in her forehead at the last part. I guess my tone wasn't that nice, and I didn't word it nicely, 'cause aren't blondes supposed to be dumb? So, I'm sorry for thinking the stereotypical. "We met when we're 12. Those are a lot, but can I just say that I would be insulted if the word 'smart' wasn't on the first three things. It's my asset that I'm proud of the most. " she said, smiling knowingly.

"It's the second word he often uses when describing you," Jake assured her.

"The first is beautiful," Sam added with a giggle, which made Percy's face go beet red. Annabeth and Thalia laughed. My friends joined too, while I just faked a laugh "Ha ha."

Thalia looked at her silver watch, "We enjoyed chatting with you, but we need to go. Actually, I need to go. I told the Hunters I'll see Percy before we head out again."

My friends and I clearly don't know what the heck she's talking about. Hunters? Is that some sort of group? But Percy and Annabeth nodded like they know, which of course they do.

"If you came here to see me, you must have some things to discuss." Percy said.

"Yeah. We'll talk in the car." Thalia turned to us and shook our hands, but her cool face seemed to turn to twist with distaste when she approached the boys (it's weird). "Nice meeting you all." We said the same thing to her, then she walked briskly to a parked van in front of the school, which has the sign Delphi Strawberry Service.

"She's an impatient person, and I wouldn't want to keep her waiting, even if she has almost all the time in the world." Percy grinned at Annabeth, like they're sharing a joke.

Annabeth waved at us as she began to walk away with my crush, "Hopefully, we'll meet again." And her startling storm gray eyes met mine and they flashed. I averted my gaze, but not before glimpsing a half-grin and half-smirk she gave me.

Percy waved at us before he stepped in the van.

It was horrible. I started crying the moment the van disappeared from our eyes and my friends tried to comfort me. I tried to slap their hands away, since they were so nice to Annabeth, but they still comforted me with hugs and pats.

Soon, the school was deserted except for me and Jake. Sam was the first to go, apologising that her family needs to leave for their vacation right after her class ends. Lizzie and Harry went next, with Lizzie eyeing us, as if she's wondering if I can be left alone with Jake. And I was still bawling my eyes out.

Jake sat next to me, "It ain't that bad." When I didn't answer, he continued. "Asking someone out on the last day really sucks, huh?" When I still didn't respond, he sighed. "But you haven't had the chance to ask him."

"I know! So, shut up!" I yelled at him.

He shrugged, "I didn't have the chance to ask someone out. I planned to ask her today, too."

"No one's left here. Go after her. She must be in a mall with her friends or somewhere."

"Nah, I'll ask her some other time." He looked at me in the eye, "Besides, it's a bad time right now. She had her heart broken."

I blinked. I turned away. I blushed.

Asking someone out on the last day of the school year can be cool and uncool at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm Charlotte Perrault, a member of the most popular clique in West Gate Academy. Currently, I'm walking along with my "friends" in the corridors of the school, on our way to the cafeteria. Crowds parted before Sabrina Hill, who leads the group. People smile at us, they wave at us, they adore us.

They may think that after we've passed them, we wouldn't hear anything. Whispers, hush talking, laughs, snorts, smirks. They also hate us.

We're not blind or deaf to be able to ignore those. Well, maybe some of us were dumb (please exclude me, I have a good common sense and nice grades), but we know what people think of us. Playboys. Bitches. Womanizers. Sluts. Jerks. Whores.

We always say "Hey!", "Hi!", "Hello!" like we're some kind of royalty or superstars. Maybe not outside the school, but once you're inside, you're in our territory. We're the rulers of the school. The tyrant kind. Dictator. Somewhere along those.

Let me show you an example. While we're walking some dorky nerd, wearing glasses and carrying books, rushes by. Someone in the crowd trips him and he falls. In front of Sabrina. How unfortunate. She looks down at him, with a fake smile plastered in her face. "Oh my, are you okay?"

He scrambles to pick up his papers and books, while nodding and stammering "Y-yes." Someone snickered. I feel bad for him, but I don't help him. No one does.

Sabrina clicks her teeth and studies her nails, "Hurry up, please. You're blocking the pathway." Somebody along the crowd raises a paper with 'Don't block the pathway.' written in messy handwriting. We laugh. The poor kid trembles and runs away.

"Come on, guys. I'm starving." Sabrina says in a sing-song voice. Despite that, she barely touches her turkey sandwich.

We chatter and giggle and flirt with each other while eating. People look and gape at us. When our eyes scan the cafeteria, no one meets our gazes. Everyone watches us in the corner of their eyes. That's okay. We love being looked at. We like being the center of attention.

Our group, like the cliche and usual popular group, conists of jocks, cheerleaders, beauty queens. Only the most beautiful and handsome and charming and charismatic are allowed. You have money and looks? You're in. You have the brains and looks? You're super in. Like I said, a lot of people are dumb, and they always need someone for their grades. You have money but no looks? Depends. If we, or more like Sabrina (since she's the leader, right?), likes you, then you're good. If not, she'll call you a friend. You have brains but no looks? Absolutely no. You're in the dork and nerd group. Appearances and wealth are definitely in our checklist. But connections are also there.

Me? I'm fairly pretty. I have glossy light brown hair and flawless skin, most of the time. I get a pimple or two, okay? I'm still human and I'm not that heavenly rich kid who visits the dermatologist everyday. My family is average. We're not poor, and we're not rich. I'm fine with my studies. A lot of B's, one or two C's and rarely an in our group, I'm considered smart. But the reason why I'm in the clicque is because of Sabrina. I'm her first friend in the school and the same goes for me. We were best friends. But now, I'm doubting it. I mean, she's nice to me and all, but there's just no... you know? the kind of bond that exists between best buddies.

"Char!" Sabrina smiles at me. "Have you seen the new girl? I've asked everyone in the group and no one saw her. Have you?"

I plop my chin in my hand, "No. What does she look like? And why would somebody transfer in the middle of the school year?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Like I said, no one saw her. I mean, somebody saw her for sure-"

I cut her off, "Then should we ask somebody else? Maybe the other cheerleader or someone."

Her mouth curls up, "Should we? Or maybe let's just wait for her to enter the cafeteria. Everyone eats lunch."

"I heard she's pretty. And she's wearing red." Mike, the captain of football team and also my boyfriend, joins the conversation. We look at him. He grins at us and he puts his arm over my shoulder. "I heard it from a classmate."

"If she wears red," Isabella, leaning towards us, says, "then she should be easy peasy to find."

She's right. Red is a bright color, so we'll be able to find her quickly. Then the noise dies down and the whispers and whistles starts. From the entrance, creeping to the center, it moves quickly. We whip our heads to see a black haired girl walking between the tables to the line for food. She's wearing red lace top, shorts, and sandals. It's her.

A lot of guys, mostly from the jocks' table and from ours, whistle as she walks by. She just smiles at everyone. I look at Sabrina and see her grinning. The new girl's in our group.

The line is very long, and as quickly as the noise died, it fills the place again. When she gets her tray of food and looks for a table. Sabrina, me, and a couple of others in our table wave at her. No one other than us dare invite her. They all know we have our eyes on her. Sounds like predator and prey? *laughs*

She stops in front of us, with a smile on her lips and her head tilting a bit. "Hello. I'm Silena Beauregard."

Sabrina scoots to make a space for her. "And I'm Sabrina Hill. Come! Sit with us!"

"Thanks!" she beams. Once she sits down, we all fire our questions at her. She's nice. Not the kind of fake nice, the real nice.

"Silena, what makeup do you use? It looks so natural on your face!" Isabella compliments. It's true. She wears little makeup, but it's like her beauty is from the inside. Oh wow. I'm spouting beauty quotes. Beside Sabrina, who wears a lot more makeup than Silena, she seems like she's glowing. She's gorgeous.

"You could add a little more color to your eyes and lips." Adrianna suggests.

Silena laughs. "I prefer very light makeup. Too much makes me look 25. And... I have a hypoallegrenic face."

The other girls and I nodded sympathetically. "That's okay girl. There are lots of hypoallergenic products."

The next day, we expect her to come straight to our table. We're wrong. She smiles and says hi to us, but she passes by us.

"Silena," Sabrina calls, "where are you going? We reserved you a seat!"

"Sorry, Sabrina." she smiles apologetically, "Lulu invited me during the second period."

Lulu was pretty, but her prettiness is below from our standards. She's an awesome cheerleader with great skills, so she's the head of the squad. But she's not in our clicque. She, along with her friends, smirk at us as they wave and smile to Silena.

Sabrina grits her teeth, "Char."

I raise my eyebrows at her, "What is it, Sab?"

Her eyes flash defiantly, "Where do you think Silena best belongs?"

"Here, of course." There's no other answer.

She grins, "I thought so too. Tomorrow, we'll invite her before Lulu does."

"First period?"

"First period," Sabrina agrees.

The next day, Sabrina and I ambush Silena by her locker. We invite her to sit with us during lunch and hang out with us after school.

She says yes and I could almost see Sabrina jumping up and down in glee.

I'm a little late for lunch since I had a little talk with my trigonometry teacher. When I got to the cafeteria, everybody's already eating their lunch, except for Silena. She falls in line next to me.

"Hi, Charlotte," she greets and I greet back. We have a little talk about whatsoever things while we wait for our turn. When we finally get our trays of food, we turn to the table and see Sabrina and Lulu glaring at each other.

I lean to Silena, not taking my eyes off the two, "You saw that?"

She tilts her head, showing her glittery earrings, "Yeah."

"You know what that means, right?"

"Yeah," she said in a bored tone.

Does she really get it? I don't know what to think. Should I tell her bluntly?

I must've been making a face, because she laughs. "I may not be a child of Athena-" she abruptly stops, "Sorry, that's a metaphor. Anyway, I get it. I really do."

"So...?" I let the question be said silently. What will you do?

She smiles at me, "I'll do whatever I want."

I know I looked shocked. I could feel my eyes bulging in horror and my mouth parting in astonishment.

She raises her eyebrow and laughs a little too loudly, "What, afraid of a war?"

When I didn't answer, she giggles and says, "Come on. Let's go eat lunch with your friends."

'Your friends,' I noted. Not 'our friends.'

The table is filled with laughter when we got there. Then they start asking Silena millions of questions.

"What's your number? I've got to call you whenever there's a sale in the mall! Your clothes are beautiful!" Isabella chats happily.

Silena, on the other hand, looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't own a phone. I use my dad's during emergencies, but nothing more."

Whoa. Really? She said she has lots of designer bags and perfumes, but she doesn't have a phone? That's unexpected.

"Then how can we call you? Text you?" I ask.

"I prefer chatting personally."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Eric, a jock, put his arm around her shoulders, which Silena eyes distastefully.

She removes his arm with her thumb and index finger, like it's a trash she's supposed to pick up. "Actually, I have. We've been going out for a month."

"You could dump him and go out with me," Eric tries to put his arm around her waist this time, but she scoots away from him.

She glares (If you wonder how she glares, think of a glaring barbie.) at him, "Not in a billion years."

"Just stop, Eric. You already have a girlfriend." Sabrina giggles.

He shrugs, "It's worth a try. Silena's prettier than her."

By now, Silena looks like she could murder the boy. But nobody notices it (except for me) 'cause they're all busy laughing.

After school, she hangs out with us in the mall. We invite her again in our table and she said yes. But the next day, she apologizes with a pretty smile (seriously, she does all things prettily.) "Sorry! I'm sitting with them for a while." By 'them,' she points to the table where nerds, smarty pants, and some average persons sit. We gape at her. Sabrina stutters "What? But they're dorks!"

Silena smiles a little, "That's true and that's why I'm sitting with them. My physics teacher announced that there will be a test next week. And I don't want to fail this one. I made a deal with my dad that if I pass this test, he'll buy me the latest Dior perfume."

Sabrina's lips form a thin line as she said "Sure, I hope you pass it. I bet that perfume's scent is lovely."

She walks gracefully to the table where the dorks are glancing at our table nervously. Of course they'd be scared. Sabrina's glaring at them. In the corner of my eye, I could see Lulu laughing at us.

After a week, Silena tells us she passed the test. So we immediately invite her again. She sits with us for a few days then she sits with another table, muttering an apology, "Sorry! I owe my lab partner something and I want to sit with her during lunch."

Sabrina says "Fine," and she sits with a loner, who I guess is her lab partner.

By then, we could hear people talking. Silena will sit wherever she wants and she'll join whatever group she likes.

Sabrina's so mad that she pulls me with her towards Silena's locker at the end of the class. People steers away from her. I know why; she's making an ugly face. Mike, my boyfriend and a member of our clique as well, notices it and he follows us, whistling.

Silena's talking to a crying girl when we saw her. She has her back on us, and when the girl notices us marching to where they are standing, she quickly excuses herself from Silena and runs away.

"Silena," Sabrina calls.

She turns, "I was giving love advice to someone. You scared her away."

Sabrina gives her a fake smile, "Nevermind her. She can go talk to someone else."

Silena crosses her arms, "What is it, Sabrina?"

Sabrina pours honey in her voice, "We missed you this lunch. For a few days, actually."

Silena sighs, "Sabrina, I am so sorry about that."

Sabrina smiles sweetly, "Then, tomorrow-"

"I'm sorry, but I won't sit with you anymore."

Sabrina forgets to mask her emotions. She frowns, "What?"

"I am politely declining your invitation to join your clique."

"But why?!" I suddenly burst. I think of all the persons, who didn't want to join us (yes, there are people like that, but very few.). They ended up being bullied by our group and isolated by many students. Silena's nice, and I don't want to be a part of the people who'll bully her.

Mike drapes his arm on me and on frustration, I swat it away. I take a step towards her, "Silena, we were nice to you, right? You fit in our group!"

Silena looks back and forth between me and Mike, "Your group consists of people who only care about their popularity and reputation. Maybe the past me would fit right with you, but not the present me. I tried hard to change, that's why I transferred schools. I've had enough of those people who aren't really my friends."

She looked at me, "I've heard lots about you, Charlotte. They say you're nicer than your other friends. You don't bully others, unless you're with them. You go along with the flow of your group. Why are you even with him?" She jerks her head to Mike, who frowns. "You don't even like him a bit. And I know he's just toying with you. I could clearly see that."

I take a step back. The truth is, my boyfriends are boys who the group shove to me. Some boy will sit and talk with me, and the next day, he announces to everyone that I'm his girlfriend. I don't bother argue, with the group looking at me and saying "Nice couple!" I broke up with them when they're too pushy about doing things, which are not yet on my to-do-list. Honestly, out of all the boys I've dated, I only really liked one.

"That's..." I falter. What could I answer?

Mike puts his arm around me and I don't move it away. "I'm not toying with her. She likes me and I like her."

Silena gestures with her hands, "Oh please. I bet you said that line to lots of people when they questioned your relationship. Girls are toys. That's all you could see in us." She looks at me, "You should break up with him."

Then she turns to Sabrina. "Sabrina, a girl, Courtney, she said you were her classmate in your freshman year. She said you're average and a bit invisible. Then you changed. People told me that you rose to fame by befriending the popular clique when you're a sophomore."

Sabrina shakes with rage, "What are you planning to do with those information? Blackmail us?"

She shrugs, "Nothing. I just want to know who I want to be friends with."

"Then did those people who told you about us how dangerous it is to anger our group?" Sabrina's voice was low and angry, like a growl.

Silena meets her eyes squarely, "I'm not afraid. I've faced worse than your kind. I'm probably going to face a lot worse next summer." I think I heard sadness and something else -guilt?- in her voice.

"I am going to know who you are, Beauregard. I'm gonna spill all your secrets and you are gonna regret what you've done," Sabrina spits it out.

Silena laughs bitterly, "Sure. I have something to do today. If you'll excuse me, Sabrina." And she walks away.

We all look at her, including the crowd of people who stopped around us.

Then Sabrina yells (yelling is something she never did before) "World War 3 starts now, Beauregard!"

I swear I heard her say "The war hasn't started yet."

Sabrina grumbles all the way home (I'm with her 'cause we have a project due tomorrow). She's my friend and I hope she doesn't read minds, because I can't help thinking that somehow, I hope that Silena wins this (whatever this is) and bring out the Sabrina I've become friends with.

 **A/N: So this happened a few months after the Battle of the Labyrinth. I'm sorry if there are some wrong spellings and grammar. I had no time to edit. Should I make a part two? I wanted 5o make Silena's story longer, but I don't want to exceed 3000 words. Anyway, please review! And thank you for reading! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. I was on a summer vacation and I wanted to make the most of it. For those who reviewed, I thank you for your comments. Those really encouraged me to write. This chapter is the second part of the last story. I really like Silena's character, that's why I made a part two. I hope you like it. :)**

Hi, it's me again, Charlotte Perrault. Currently, I'm sitting in the driver's seat and waiting for Sabrina to finish her talk with her boyfriend. She says she wants to go shopping because she's in a bad mood. It's probably because of Silena. She can turn Sabrina's mood sour, even if she just smiled.

I should explain something about Silena Beauregard. When she first went to our school, we tried to recruit her into our clique, but now, she is Sabrina's sworn enemy because she refused. Against her, Sab is losing her crown and position as the queen in our school.

Really, there's no competition. I admit it, because it's true. In 2 weeks, everyone is not afraid of us anymore. A lot of our followers go to Silena's side, though the number of people she hangs out with doesn't get bigger. Her group consists of nice people, no matter what their school statuses are. Lulu and her cheerleaders have her back. But the real reason is actually that people like her more is because she's nicer than Sabrina. She helps people; Sabrina embarrasses them.

The sad part when Sabrina's shopping because of a bad mood is that she just buys whatever thing she likes, which results to a loooot of paper and plastic bags that I have no choice but to help her carry them.

I'm practically dragging the bags on the floor when she pulls me to the MAC store.

She growls at the sight of makeup. "That bitch, she thinks she can win everyone over by giving them makeovers and making them look good?"

"She referred to it as 'bringing one's hidden beauty out,'" I blurt out, then I bite my tongue. Saying that definitely doesn't help. Silena has been giving makeovers to a lot of people, including nerds, dorks, normal persons.

She glares at me. "I'll make our group more intimidating than ever! We'll look like gods and goddesses next to her and those she makeovered." She orders the sales lady to give both of us a makeup demonstration.

gods and goddesses, huh?

"You're so beautiful, honey!" The lady beams at me, when she's finished. I check myself in the mirror. I smile. I look good, better than usual. She starts to rattle the kinds of makeup she used on me. Of course she'll say I'm beautiful. She's a sales lady. When a trio of boys passes by the store and I make eye contact with them, they whistle and grin at me. One even says loudly, "Hi cutie!"

My smile widens and I straighten my back. I turn to the lady and say "I'll buy it all." Her smile becomes as wide as mine. Okay, so maybe I'm using most of my savings since the start of the year, but I can't help it. I like being beautiful. Sorry for being vain.

After that store, Sab asks, "How're your nails?"

"They're fine, long, healthy and all. Why?"

"Let's go to a salon and paint them!"

I bite my lower lip. On saturday, our family is joining on a tree planting activity. I tell her about it and she rolls her eyes, "Fine! We'll paint them after your clean and green project."

Actually, the main reason I don't want to go to the salon is because I saw Silena and a tall African-American guy (her boyfriend, maybe?) hanging out near the place. I'm not in a mood to witness a fight to erupt here in the mall. Besides, Sab's mood already improved, and Silena looks happy with the guy. I don't want to ruin the good atmosphere.

Sabrina curses under her breath. I look at her. "What happened?"

"I forgot that I'm grounded this month! Daddy will scold me for breaking my curfew, for sure."

I hook arms with her. "Come on, let's go home."

The drive to her house is quiet. We don't talk much, since we turned on the radio and just listened to the music. Before she gets off the car, I decide to tell her something that has been nagging on my mind. "Sab?"

"Yeah?"

I swallow before continuing. "When you say, we'll look like gods and goddesses, to make us even more intimidating and better that Silena..."

"What about it?" She raises her perfectly arched eyebrow.

I look at her straight in the eyes, "Gods and goddesses aren't just about looks. They're kind and helpful. Maybe... Maybe we can also be like that."

There I said it. And something flickers in her ice blue orbs. I bite my lower lip as I wait for her response. She sighs and opens the door. "That's not how we rule the school."

"I know. But maybe, maybe we can change."

She look at me dead in the eyes, "Maybe you've been spending more time than necessary with that James Thompson. If I say no to your suggestion, will you join their group?"

Before I can even answer, she slams the door.

James Thompson is my classmate in math and history, that's why I asked him to help me study the one subject I always fail at: math. He was a dork transformed into a handsome young man by Silena, who happens to be his friend as well. I took a liking to him and I just realized that a few days ago. I didn't talk to Sab about it, but she probably knows about it. She even knew before I did, that I would break up with my boyfriend. She knows me too much.

Sab gives me the cold shoulder the next day, and the clique knows something is off between the both of us. It's not the first time we fought, so they just shrug it off. She chats with them; they chat with me. They don't know how close I am to be kicked out of the group.

Actually, Sab's the reason why I'm part of the popular circle. One day in the sophomore year, she suddenly said that she's going to be beautiful and popular. I don't want to be popular, I just want a normal high school life. But I supported her. Then she told me something I never forgot, "If I'm going to be popular, you are too. If I'm going to be bullied, you are too. I'll pull you to wherever I am 'cause you're my bestfriend."

Maybe it sounds bad and somewhat weird, but it's what I liked about her. Sab still pulls me to wherever she wants to go. Maybe that's why I never left this group, despite not liking the way they treat others.

And when Sab's blank and cold stares at me continued for a week, and everyone at school knows we're in a fight. Calling it a fight is a bit too much, don't you think?

When I pass corridors and hallways by myself, there were always some shouts. "Hey, Charlotte! Finally rebelling against Sabrina?" And laughter followed closely. I don't want to give them anything else to comment on, so I ignore each one of the taunts.

I don't know what kind of things James thinks, but I almost smack him for what he said to me during one of our study sessions. "Charlotte, I don't know how you consider Sabrina as your best friend. She just pushes and bullies you around just like how she treats those who aren't her friends."

The act of smacking something, much less someone, surprise me so much, I take a step back. Especially if the one I aim for is a boy I like. And since I am no fan of violence and I am afraid of blood, I restrain myself.

I try for a teasing smile, which I manage to do half. "Are you trying to make me turn my back to Sabrina?"

I expect him to make an excuse of joke around it, but he casts his eyes downward to the floor and answers quietly, "I don't know about Sabrina, but I really think of you as a friend. I don't think it will hurt if you will join Silena's side."

I snort, and before I could stop my tongue and consider my words, they go rolling out from my mouth. "It won't hurt you, of course. She's not your best friend. Our friendship goes back to freshmen year, James. Before this clique and popularity and everything, we were just as invisible as you were. We're friends." I pick up some books from the table. "I don't think these books are suitable for our topic today. I'll get new ones." I march off before he could even open his mouth.

I look at the three books in my arms. Really, I don't care about this. I just needed an excuse to go away. But some part inside me dances with joy. He thinks of me as a friend? Well, that's certainly better than a study partner, right?

While I'm reshelving the books and finding new ones, I heard a hushed voice in the isolated (and darker) part of the library. (Don't ask me how I got looking for math books in that place.)

"I just talked to Charlie last week. He said that the camp is busy preparing... lots of things." There is silence after that; Silena's probably talking to a phone or reciting lines in for drama class. Her voice is filled with so much sadness and guilt, I feel like my heart is broken in two. "Please..." Then it changes to something different, fear? Desperation? "Remember your - I mean, Luke's - promise. I am doing everything you tell me to do, so please don't hurt Charlie..."

Luke? A promise not to hurt Charlie? Is that her boyfriend's name? My lips part and I exhale. Is someone blackmailing her or something? Or is this some love triangle?

I stop moving. I think I even stop breathing. What am I thinking? This is not just some petty practice for a play or something. The feelings she poured in her words were real. And I'm eavesdropping. I quietly step away from the place. I haven't gone a few steps away from the aisle of bookshelves when I hear her ask, "Charlotte?"

I think all 4.7 liters of blood inside me freeze at the sound her voice. I turn around stiffly (curse this body! I might as well admit that I eavesdropped.) "Oh... Hey, Silena."

She eyes me warily. "What are you doing here?"

My mind reels for excuses that would not sound like an excuse. "I'm looking for math books to help me and James. Actually, only me."

Her eyebrows raise. "In this place?"

It's the truth dammit! I hang my head. "James... He said some mean things about Sabrina. I should be used to those kind of comments, but... He talked about our friendship. Friendship and mean things don't sit well together, so I stormed off."

Buy it, buy it, buy it. I plead quietly. It's also the truth!

I can see tension lift from her shoulders (though she still looks suspicious), and I feel relieved. But I'm once again caught off guard by her. "You really like James, huh?"

"N-no! I don't really-" I start but then I know that she sees through my lies, even my excuses a while ago. "Yeah, I do."

She smiles, "The first step is always being honest to yourself. You even reapplied your lipgloss and mascara!" When I open my mouth to ask her how she knows that, she says, "I was there in the CR with you. So, you want me to give you some love advice?"

My face is burning, I know it. "No."

She laughs, though it sounds forced. We walk side by side, away from the bookshelves to the tables. "You know, I also have a friend who's a bully," she starts. "So, I know how the feeling when people trash talk my friends and try to make me see their bad sides. But that's why I am friends with them, because I accept the truth about them. That's the way you treat Sabrina, right?"

I close my eyes and smile, "Yeah. She's not perfect and she makes mistakes. But I forgive her because she's still my friend." I open my eyes and look at her, "I can't believe I'm talking about Sab with you, when we're supposed to be glaring at each other."

She grins, "Tell me, how's Sabrina doing?"

"She's good. She's crankier and moodier, thanks to you."

"Sorry about that. Is she still keeping her promise?"

I look at her, "What promise?"

"The one she shouted at the hallway. She said she's going to know all my dirty secrets. Is she still digging?"

I nod. "You bet she is."

She smiles a little, her eyes a little troubled. "If... If ever she knew something, she will tell it to everyone, right? Even my friends?"

I raise my eyebrows. Where is she going with this? "Yes. And?"

"Maybe she could also tell it to the camp. I never had any courage to tell them myself." She says it so quietly, I think I just read her lips.

She looks at me, her eyes glittering with tears yet to fall. "Do you think my friends will forgive me for what I am doing?"

I avert my eyes. I can't take tears. Looking at crying persons make me cry too. I gulp. "How can they not? I think, whatever dirty secret you're hiding from them, despite still thinking about them as your friends-"

"They're practically my family." She almost sobs.

"See? You treat them as your family. You cannot think of someone as your family if they don't think the same of you. And because of that, they'll forgive you. Besides, you're nice."

She snorts, "You're being nice. I'm not."

"I'm nice and you're not? Are you blind or something? A while ago, I just-" I stop myself from confessing.

She giggles, "Fine. We're both not nice."

I smile and laugh with her (I have to tone down my laugh because the librarian shushes me). "Do me a favor, Silena. Pretend we didn't talk and giggled and whatnot. Sab will kill me."

She snickers, "That's an odd request coming from someone who could tell the whole school about what she overheard earlier." Then she laughs at my burning face. "It's cool. See you around, Perrault."

Silena's true to her word. We go back to ignoring each other. And Sab is still giving me the cold shoulder.

It didn't take long for our group slowly falls apart. Some of them tell Sabrina that it's a mistake they followed her, some say that they will always be her friends, and some call her bunch of ugly names before storming off. When Sabrina gets dumped by her boyfriend, she loses it. She doesn't go to school for two days. People snicker and laugh at me, they always do that now, saying "Hey, Charlotte! Where's Sabrina? Afraid of showing her ugly face?"

When she goes to school the next day, she keeps her head high with a stubborn look on her face. I stick with her the whole day, despite the fact that we're still not talking to each other. When we turn to a corner, she hisses at me, "What are you doing, Charlotte?"

I cross my arms, "Ah, your first words to me in days are so refreshing."

"Why don't you join your crush and go to Silena's side?"

"I thought our friendship is deeper than this kind of crap," I frown at her. "You told me back in sophomore year that you'll pull me to wherever you are, whether in the popular circle or the bullied group, because we're bestfriends. So, I'm sorry to believe what my bestfriend said."

Her expression softens and tears glisten in the corners of her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Char. I really am." She breaks into quiet sobs. "What should I do? I've been mean to everyone." She looks at me for a second then drops the gaze. "Even you."

I hug her without any hesitation. "I forgive you. That's what friends do. We forgive and accept each other's mistakes. And if there are others who really consider you as their friend, they will forgive you too."

She hugs back. "I doubt that there are others who view me as their friend."

"You want to find out? We could make peace with everyone. Others will probably think of it as some sort of attention seeking, but we know better. Because we mean it, right?"

She pulls away and wipes her tears. "Yeah."

I laugh softly. "Let's head to the restroom. Your makeup's smudged."

I'm right. A lot of people think of our apologies as attention seeking. Sab didn't apologize publicly; she talked to everyone (whether bullied or part of the clique) privately. But there are some, who happily made amendments with her.

Sabrina and Silena made peace with each other, though they didn't exactly become friends. On the contrary, Silena and I became good friends. James and I remain the same: friends, study partners, classmates. I'm still working on bringing our relationship to a higher level.

When prom came, nobody but Sabrina was surprised when she was crowned as the prom queen.

"This joke is not funny," is what she first says when she grabs hold of the mic, but she's smiling. "I'm not fit for this sort of title. I'm not popular anymore. And when I was popular, I was bullying everyone." Everyone laughs. "Beuregard, you should be standing in this place, wearing this crown, and holding this mic. Everyone, me included, knows that's the truth."

Silena shrugs and answers loudly, "I didn't want it. That's why I talked others into making you the prom queen."

"You bitch," Sab says playfully. "I don't accept this crown. And since you don't want it too, I'll give it to somebody else." Then her eyes lands on me. "Charlotte Perrault."

My jaw drops. "What?" But my answer is swallowed by the cheers of every person. Then they start to chant my name, "Charlotte! Charlotte!"

Sab smiles at me and I just stand there dumbfounded. Somebody offers his hand to me. I look at the owner of the hand. "Come on. Let's get you up the stage," James leans in to me and smiles. His face is so close to mine that heat rises up to my face. A few people around us tease us, "Oh, just kiss already."

I take his hand and hoist up the beige skirts of my gown as I climb the stairs of the stage. Different colors of lights stare at me at all angles, making my gold embroidered mermaid dress look stunning. I smile back at the crowd that look at me with adoring eyes and shout my name gleefully. I close my eyes and take it all in.

 **A/N: There you go. What do you think? Post a review please. Follow and favorite too. I might not be posting a new chapter in a week or two. I'm not allowed to use my phone and laptop this days. I have to be sneaky just to post this chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi guys! I really want to thank everyone who followed and favorited this story! It means a lot to me! And those reviews! You guys are awesome! PunksNotDeadYouAre, you requested this one, so I hope you like it! And Princess Andromeda II, you really helped me make this story. If not for you, well, I don't know how I would write this. And to my dear readers, I hope you enjoy this and read my next updates!**

I shifted my weight on my other foot. This was becoming tiring. Sure, I attended a lot of interviews about my artworks for years, so I thought having a gala wouldn't be much different. But smiling for so long that it became fake is exhausting. Standing in heels didn't make it easier.

"Interviews say that you started painting with dark colors and emotions when your father died, Miss Persia," a woman in the small group of people surrounding me asked.

I shook my head and stretched my lips into a smile. "You are wondering if maybe these are a result of my sadness and grief." It was meant to be a question, but it is not. "That is only a part of the reason. That time was when I realized that I best expressed myself through those kind of shades and themes."

Then my uncle pushed himself through the crowd. "Darling!" He called out to me. "The magazine staff are waiting by your masterpiece."

I excused myself from the people. I felt my uncle's rough hand in my lower back, as he guided me through the crowd of gowns and tuxes. When we got there, he leaned and whispered to me, "Remember, smile." I rolled my eyes at him. I've been doing that for hours.

The photographers and interviewers of different companies were waiting with my aunt. They all smiled and greeted me when I stepped into they're view.

"Persia," my aunt cooed. She positioned me in front of the painting. Then she fussed over my midnight blue gown, smoothing the wrinkles of the little trail that started from the lowest point of the oval hole in the back part of my dress. "Stand straight," she whispered to me. Then she left my side.

I tried to maintain my poise throughout the camera flashes. "You look lovely, Miss. Now, can you please turn to your side a bit to show your dress? Ah, beautiful," the photographer commented. I wanted to snap at him. I wasn't lovely or beautiful. The dress was. It hugged my body tightly, with damask patterned skirts that fell to the floor and shimmered when I walk.

The photo shoot was over and the first interviewer asked, "Miss Persia Fairbairn." I cringed inside. After a decade, I was still not used to hear my aunt and uncle's surname as mine. "What inspired you to do this masterpiece, Panic?"

I smiled. Panic was not a masterpiece. I painted it 8 years ago, when I still lacked experience and technique. But i liked this particular painting and the story behind it. The image was focused on a young woman who was experiencing horror, anxiety, and alarm, and a young man who was calming her down. The painting was supposed to be about love. I did paint love. The dependence that she was showing only to him, and the man who was worried about her. It was painted will dark colors, to emphasize the emotions the couple felt, but there was a beacon of light in the midst of darkness, the pale blonde hair of the girl. I knew I did not capture the exact look in the eyes of those couple. But I made them look haunted and broken, with only each other for comfort and ease.

I knew that I cannot tell the whole story, which will probably last an hour, so I chopped it to pieces and fed it to the interviewer who held out a recorder. I cannot stop myself from reminiscing the memory, though.

I was fourteen years old and was on a tour around Greece. This is my second time in the country, where my aunt enrolled me in a summer camp that specializes in arts and crafts since last year. This time, though, the camp had a special tour around the country, jumping from museum to museum. We campers were attending a tour in a sculpture museum.

I stopped walking to admire his face and all its strong and sharp features. The contours, the expression, the texture. But there's no color. It's just a dull shade of gray, just like how a statue would be. I drew a quick sketch of the statue of Zeus in my sketchpad. All the other pages were the same, rushed, quick, no details whatsoever. I cursed the tour guide in my mind. Why couldn't she stop for at least 5 minutes? I would be able to draw better.

I was gifted (or so they say, I didn't really see the gift in me) with the talent of arts. I can paint and I can draw. In my eyes, the art pieces were nothing special. They're simple, maybe a little detailed and better than the normal art normal people can do. But, nothing like Michelangelo, Raphael, or Leonardo Da Vinci. My dad praised me and encouraged me to do more. But when my aunt adopted me and looked at the art for the first time, her eyes shone and told me that this was my fate. To be an artist. Painter. Illustrator.

"What did you draw, Persia?" Catherine, a girl a little older than me, asked.

"Statues. Statues and statues and statues. We're in a museum filled with statues, for heaven's sake! What else am I supposed to draw?" I replied, irritated.

"Whoa, calm down. Why are you so irritated?" She crossed her arms and silently demanded an answer.

I was not annoyed by her. Rather, by myself. "I am surrounded by perfectly sculpted statues and I can't even draw them properly because of that tour guide who does nothing but smile widely and spout boring myths and tales and then rushing off to another part of the museum."

She feigned thinking hard about what I said. Then her face brightened as if a lightbulb was lit in her brain. "Ah! How about you follow Mr. Matthias's advice, hmm?"

I groaned. "Maybe later. There are a lot of statues to draw."

I walked slower, letting myself get to the back part of the line. She just waved and jogged to catch up with the other kids that attend the same camp she and I were in.

Mr. Matthias was one of the instructors and professors in the camp. He noticed the kind of style I use was the same in every painting. He gave me an advice, which made me squirm and want to vomit every time I think of it.

Someone behind me, one of the last two persons of the group, whined. "Why are we even on a tour, Annabeth?"

"Shh. I'm trying to listen." A female voice answered coolly, but firmly.

The male whined even more that I swear he pouted. "You know about all these stuff already!"

Again, the female answered, "I could still learn something, even if the tour guide gets half of the stuff she's talking about messed up."

I blinked. Could it be that the girl or the lady was some sort of Greek mythology expert? I glanced at my drawings. They all lacked details and stories. I didn't listen to the tour guide since we arrived, so what's the point of starting now? But I made it a rule that I would draw and paint something or someone on two conditions. First; it is something I want to draw or paint. Second; there must be a story behind it, a reason why I drew or painted it. Maybe I can ask the girl about the statues. But she sounds too strict, I wonder if it's alright to disrupt her listening.

I took a little peek over my shoulder, so they wouldn't notice me staring directly. The girl was tall, almost as tall as the guy. But that wasn't the one the struck me the most. She has this California vibe with her curly, blonde hair. But her eyes are gray. Not blue-gray or pale blue that you can count as gray. It really was gray. Stormy gray, I must say. I shifted my eyes on the guy with her. His looks were really good. His windswept hair style looked so natural, I wondered if he got a good stroll around the town before he came in the museum. His eyes were green, sea green, that brightened whenever he talked or looked at the girl. They appeared to be not much older than me, and they were clearly a couple.

He caught me looking and gave me a lopsided smile. I snapped my head back and glared at the people in front of me. I knew I was blushing from embarrassment.

Suddenly, Mr. Matthias's advice rang in my ears. _You should paint something more colorful, happier, and lovelier. Something someone your age would paint._ I remembered asking for a specific topic. _Love_ , he answered. _Fill your paintings with a more positive emotion._

Just thinking about painting with so many, different colors made me dizzy and uncomfortable. I've always painted with black and white. Sometimes, I added a touch of maroon, a smear of midnight blue, a spot of soil brown, or a streak of raisin purple. Always dark colors, never pastel, never bright, never neon. Even in my drawings, I used ordinary pencils or charcoal. Classic black and white. That's what made people in the art industry remembered me for. How I painted with just two colors, sometimes three (black, white and one other dark color), amazed them.

More than those shades of colors that I use, I have never painted something purely out of positive feelings. I painted sadness, guilt, tragedy, loss, poverty, anger. But there would always be something that's positive, it's just that it's not that noticeable and it's really small compared to the negative ones. For example, the first painting my aunt entered in a contest (she entered my artworks in competitions, not me) was a picture of a single blooming white rose in a field of wilted flowers. I was ten back then. The judges asked me why I chose to paint a white rose. I answered, _Because red roses are too romantic, it wouldn't fit the painting rightly._ When they asked me the why there is only one living flower among the wilted ones, I answered _At least one lived. I read an article about a plane crashing on 1992 and no one survived. It's too sad._ And then I was given the first prize.

Mr. Matthias suggested love. Young love. Couples. _The topic is common, but it would be a challenge for you_ , he said.

I glanced back again. The guy was still complaining and the girl kept shushing him. Maybe they can help.

When the tour guide stopped a little longer in front of a statue of Kronos, I spun 180 degrees to talk to them. But they're gone. I blinked. Where did they go? I looked around. Ah, they were looking and frowning at one of the statues. I approached them.

"Do you think Rhea actually looked like this?" The guy asked the girl.

She shrugged. "Maybe yes. Maybe no. Who knows if the sculptor actually saw her? But have you seen Athena's statue back there? It looks-"

"Nothing like her. Yeah. You've already complained about that for 10 times."

I wrinkled my forehead. What are they talking about? But that's not important. It's their business, not mine. I cleared my throat. "Umm, hello?"

They turned. The girl's gray eyes looked suspiciously at me. She looked like she's trying whether or not I can be trusted. The boy's eyes was more open and friendlier, but he's also got that wary look. "Can we help you?" The girl asked.

I cannot take meet her eyes anymore. It's unnerving. I looked at my shoes. "I-I'm wondering if it's okay for me to observe you two? Umm, I'm an artist and I need inspiration for my next artwork."

"An artist?" was the girl's short and crisp reply.

"Y-yes. My instructor gave me a specific topic. Love." I looked at what their reactions might be. They both turned into wonderful shades of pink.

It was silent long enough to make the atmosphere awkward. I opened my mouth to take it all back, but the boy beat me first. He laughed nervously. "I'm fine with that. What do you think, Wise Girl?"

She just gave a slight nod. "Me too." She extended her hand to me and gave me an embarrassed smile. "Annabeth Chase."

I shook her hand and introduced myself. The boy shook my hand, as well. "I'm Percy Jackson. I hope you won't mind our bickering. There will be lots of that." He grinned.

When the group moved again, I told them, "Is it alright if I also use your appearances? I'm used to paint and draw pictures as close as I can get to the real thing. But it's okay if you don't want to." I quickly added the last part when I saw the smallest frown appear on Annabeth's serious face.

She gave me a small smile, "We don't want any more exposure to the world, but… if you really insist on copying our faces, then alright."

I beamed at her. "Thank you! Don't worry, I won't be exactly copying you. Just highlights and other features… Please ignore me. Just go and talk and listen to the tour guide. I'll just be sketching and taking notes and…" I stopped myself when I realized I was rambling.

"Sure, we'll just do things normally like there's no one who watches us," Percy chuckled.

"Don't mind him," Annabeth elbowed him but she's smiling as well.

I drew as fast as I can. All their expressions that I can catch. The serious and stern face of Annabeth, the goofy face Percy made when he's joking, the excitement that shone in Annabeth's eyes when she talks about Greek mythology (she talked as if she lived throughout all the myths), and the bored look on Percy's face when Annabeth's concentrating on the tour guide's talks and not talking to him. I scribbled furiously. I took note of their postures, their expressions, their personalities.

When our group stopped again, I studied all my notes and sketches of the couple. There were so many things to note about them. Now that I thought about it, Annabeth's confidence, Percy's aura, and their looks made me think that they're like _half god and goddess_. Silly me. I was just intimidated by their strength. No, they have not displayed physical strength. There's just something in their eyes. They may have experienced loss or they may have been traumatized, I didn't know.

I noted what I wanted to paint about them. For me, when you just look right into someone's eyes, you can see everything. That's why eyes were necessary to be included in the painting. They give a soul to the picture. So I noted, Percy's black hair and green eyes, Annabeth's blonde hair and gray eyes… "Oh, crap. I don't do yellow." I muttered.

"Sorry?" Annabeth asked. I was startled by her. I forgot she's standing beside me.

"I… I have always painted with dark colors. Never bright. But… Your hair would add something different, special in the picture." I bit my lip, thinking hard. Should I just replace her hair color into a darker one? No, no. If I change it, the whole picture, not just her, would also be changed. But…

"I'm not half as much as an artist as you are, but I design things. I know how it feels when you are agonizing over a small thing that could change the whole product." She put her hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you're thinking about it too much. And I must say, sometimes, thinking is not helping. How about you just follow what your heart tells you to do? Your heart can tell you when something feels right."

Percy popped into our conversation, "You're quoting Piper?"

"I wouldn't call it quoting. More like, revising and editing. Anyway, how would you know I'm quoting Piper? Please tell me you are not eavesdropping during our talks."

He snorted, "She's the only Aphrodite girl you talk to."

Annabeth glared at him. "You didn't even deny it."

I took notes. Annabeth's choice of words proved that she's smart, logical, and reasonable. However, Percy's a bit… Let's just say not as smart as his girlfriend.

It was like that for the next few moments. Annabeth listening to the tour guide, Percy chiming up with comments that often made no sense, and me taking notes, sketching. When suddenly, the tour guide took a dark turn.

"We shall be discussing Tartarus," she announced cheerfully.

A strangled sound came from behind me. I ignored it, though. Annabeth and Percy could be bickering for all I knew.

"This is a painting of Tartarus," the tour guide pointed to a portrait behind her, with a huge smile. "It signifies the torment, the agony, the suffering of those imprisoned here. According to the myths, Tartarus can be found deeper than the Underground, and it would take 9 days to get there."

She continued to talk about the dark, evil place. When she got to the part when she mentioned demons and other evil stuff, I wondered how she could discuss these things with a huge smile plastered on her face. A whimper was heard behind me. That was _weird_. I looked back.

Annabeth was pale and has her hands clamped tightly on her mouth, like she was preventing herself to scream. She has this suffocated look on her face, almost afraid. Her eyes darted from here to there, like she's confined in a small room and she's looking for an exit. She's obviously panicking. I wrinkled my brow and looked at Percy. He was standing stiffly, with the stance of somebody who's waiting to pick a fight with him. One hand was clenched tightly and the other was gripping a pen like a weapon. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me and stayed there for a second longer than necessary, a chill went up to my spine. His eyes were cold, suspicious, haunted.

Then it happened. Somebody from the next group of tourists bumped into Annabeth. She screamed and punched the guy who didn't even get to apologize. Percy suddenly has this bronze colored stick in his hand. Where did he get _that?_

There was a short blur of bronze, the same color as Percy's stick, in Annabeth's hands as she attacked everyone within 2 meters of radius. I jumped back and collided into somebody I didn't know, but I also didn't care. I didn't want to be stabbed. When she cut off the arm of Kronos's statue, the tour guide started screaming as well.

"ARGH! That was sculpted in 139 B.C.! A perfect artifact passed down by generations of art loving people!" She dropped her smile and replaced it with horror.

Then Annabeth pulverized a statue of Hermes.

"That was crafted delicately and is very brittle! No one is allowed to touch it and you SMASHED it?"

While she was raging and assaulting poor lifeless statues, Percy was looking frantically around as if expecting somebody to attack him or his girlfriend (no one even dared take a step forward, his eyes were murderous).

Thankfully, before Annabeth destroyed another statue, Percy finally decided that no one will fight back. He tried to stop Annabeth for the first few attempts, before finally succeeding in taming her. By then, a lot of people were screaming and scrambling to get away from the crazy girl.

The security guards arrived a minute too late, for Percy steered his girlfriend away from anyone's sight. He wrapped his arm around her protectively, wiped her tears and calmed her down.

No one talked loudly after that. Hushed whispers can be heard everywhere. When we finally got out of the museum, I found myself searching for the couple. I spotted them standing in the shadows, where no one bothered or noticed them.

As I neared them, I notice that Annabeth was still shaking and Percy was talking to her, cupping her face and making her look at him.

I suddenly realized that I don't know what to say to them. I started simple. "Hey."

Percy looked at me, startled. "Oh, hi Persia."

Annabeth gave me a small smile and her voice was shaky when she talked. "I hope you didn't take note of that little scene."

"Don't worry, I didn't." _The image was burned to my mind._ I returned her smile, though I kept my distance. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," she admitted.

"Those statues you crushed are feeling worse," I said lightly.

Percy smiled at that, light returning to his eyes, "Yeah, they feel crushed for sure."

Annabeth rolled her stormy gray eyes, though she smiled a little wider.

I suddenly gasped. "You need to go now. There are cops and security personnel a few meters behind you."

They didn't look at where I pointed. They just nodded calmly, like they're used to these situations.

Annabeth patted my shoulder. "I could introduce you to a friend of mine. She's an amazing artist. But… There's no time."

I just nodded. "Go, now! They're coming this way."

"Good luck. Maybe we'll contact you when you become famous," Percy teased, before they slipped and blended into the crowd.

I mingled with different people, while the cops walked near me.

I smiled as an idea formed in my head. I knew where to go after. I was going to a store and hope they sell yellow paint.


End file.
